


How Jughead Got His Groove Back

by Gaffsie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Break Up, Crack, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Jughead Jones & Veronica Lodge Friendship, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Justice for Veronica Lodge, Possibly Pre-Slash, Sweet Pea is a good bro, Veronica Lodge Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23718043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaffsie/pseuds/Gaffsie
Summary: Jughead is not dealing well with the news of Betty's infidelity. Sweet Pea decides to save him from himself.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 43
Kudos: 111





	1. A friend in need...

On Thursday, a new VHS tape was delivered to all of Riverdale's households. Sweet Pea got one too, but he didn't watch it, because, 1) who the fuck owned a VHS player in this day and age? And, 2) who the fuck had the time to sit around and watch hours-long surveillance footage of their own house?

Apparently he was missing out, because, a couple of hours later, his phone started blowing up with texts.

**Fangs** : Holy shit, did you see the tape?????

 **Toni:** I FUCKING KNEW THAT BITCH WAS TROUBLE

 **Betty Cooper** : Hey, Betty here. Have you seen Jughead?

 **FP Jones** : Hey, kid, do you know where Jug is?

 **Old Deuteronomy:** 🙀 (Sweet Pea really had to block that guy's number)

 **Toni** : Gonna steal Cheryl's good booze and head to Veronica.

 **Jinx** : love is dead (he really needed to block him too, while he was at it)

He ended up calling Fangs, who put him on speaker and breathlessly proceeded to tell him that the creepy VHS stalker had filmed Betty Cooper making out with Archie Andrews in his garage. Sweet Pea could hear Kevin Keller's voice excitedly mutter, ”I always knew those two were endgame. #Bughead is no more!,” in the background.

”Has Jones seen it?” He asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that.

”Definitely,” Keller said. ”The whole Jones-Cooper clan always watches the tapes together, as a bonding activity, I guess? Betty said that he didn't say a word. Just quietly stood up and left. She tried to follow him, but his little sister apparently went feral and tried to throttle her, so she didn't manage to.”

”Good for JB,” Sweet Pea just said. That kid had some fire in her.

”No one's heard from Jones in a while,” Fangs added, which wasn't much of a surprise. He probably wanted to lick his wounds in private.

~*~

Sweet Pea didn't really start to worry about Jones until the next day.

Betty Cooper showed up at school looking bleary-eyed and sad, followed by an equally miserable looking Archie Andrews. Veronica Lodge, arm in arm with Toni, and dressed to the nines with fire in her eyes, sashayed her way past the two of them in the hall, skillfully pretending that they didn't exist, even as they both tried to reach out to her. Sweet Pea nodded as she passed him, both in greeting, and as acknowledgment of her power.

Veronica gave him a slight smile and a sway of her hips, and then she and Toni were swallowed up by the crowd.

There was no sight of Jones anywhere. Not in the _Blue & Gold _office, which didn't surprise him, because that had always been BettyAndJughead territory, and not in the lunch room. That _did_ surprise him. Not even in the sad little cupboard under the stairs where he had apparently _lived_ at one point.

He tried calling Jones on his phone, but that went straight to voice-mail. In the end, he figured that he had enough people chasing after him right now, so he just sent him a text with a casual offer to hang out, and left it at that.

He never got a reply, or even an indication that Jones had seen the message.

~*~

On Saturday, Sweet Pea very casually decided to take a stroll to the bunker for no particular reason, _shut up, Fangs_.

Jones wasn't there either.

He then tried the new Serpent headquarter, a lot less casually, and then the quarry, feeling a little desperate, and Pop's. Pop Tate himself just shook his head sadly when he asked him if Jughead Jones had been around lately.

”Haven't seen him for days,” he said, and then, ”I've had a lot of people ask me that question lately.”

Jones was 18, he suddenly remembered, wondering if maybe he'd done what so many people dreamed of, and few accomplished, and had just... left.

~*~

On Sunday, he ran into FP Jones at the gas station.

”The boy called me up today,” FP told him, dragging a hand over his unshaven chin. ”Said he needed some time to think. He didn't want to tell me where he was, but Betty had Charles trace the call, and it was coming from Centerville.”

”You going?” Sweet Pea asked, eyeing his motorcycle.

”Nah,” FP said. ”He'll come back when he's good and ready.”

It seemed pretty fishy to Sweet Pea, but it wasn't like he and Jughead were BFFs or anything, so he shrugged it off and went on with his day.

Later that night, as he was going through his history homework, Sweet Pea got a text message from an unknown number.

**Unknown** : I've decided to trust you.

 **Unknown** : Don't make me regret it.

OK, Sweet Pea replied, already knowing who it was from, rolling his eyes a little at the theatricality of it all. It wasn't like Jones was the first guy in the world to have his High School girlfriend cheat on him.

**Unknown** : I'm in the bunker. Bring food. NOT POP'S. Make sure you're not followed.

You better pay me, Sweet Pea typed.

He ended up picking up some Chinese food on his way to Fox's Forest, figuring that it would make for decent left-overs if Jughead could refrain from inhaling it all at once. He kept throwing glances over his shoulder the entire drive, feeling like he was in a shitty spy movie or something, cursing himself for letting Jughead's paranoia affect him.

He went so far as to stash his bike behind some bushes, feeling like a world-class idiot as he did so.

The forest was eerily quiet, just his own heavy footsteps breaking the silence. He found the bunker easily, even in the dark, the path there familiar ground to him by now.

The hatch was closed, but not locked, and Sweet Pea moved it aside without any real trouble.

Jughead met him at the bottom of the ladder. He must have heard him opening the hatch.

He wasn't sure what state he'd expected to find Jones in, but it wasn't for him to look completely normal, if perhaps a little more drawn than usual.

“You brought food!” He exclaimed happily when he noticed the bag in Sweet Pea's hand, practically skipping over to him to grab it from him.

He walked back to the living quarter without turning to see if Sweet Pea was following, Sweet Pea trailing after him, feeling faintly cheated.

He watched Jughead rifle through the contents of the bag before his restless hands settled on a carton of chow mein, neatly grabbing some chopsticks and sitting down on a chair that was facing an ancient TV monitor.

“You OK?” Sweet Pea asked him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hm?” Jughead said, sounding distracted. His eyes were glued to the TV screen as he ate, watching what appeared to be surveillance footage of the Mantle Mansion.

“I heard what happened with Ponytail and Andrews,” Sweet Pea offered, feeling a bit irritated with the way Jughead didn't even bother to turn around to face him.

Jughead snorted, waving his chopsticks in the air.

“I'm heartbroken, obviously. But I've decided to put my feelings aside and focus on solving this video tape mystery instead. I'm pretty sure it can be done, if someone gives it the attention it deserves. Chucky's a pretty decent agent as far as feds go, but he's got a lot on his plate right now.”

He shrugged, thin shoulders moving under his flannel shirt. “I figured I'd help him out.”

“You weren't here yesterday,” Sweet Pea said, not quite managing to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

“No, I knew this would be the first place they would look for me, so I created a _diversion_ ," Jughead said, sounding smug about it.

“It worked,” Sweet Pea offered.

“I know,” Jughead said, still not turning around in his chair.

“You coming to school tomorrow?”

“Nope,” Jughead said, popping the 'p' with apparent relish. “I've already talked with my teachers. They think I have the flu.”

There wasn't a whole lot Sweet Pea could say to that.

“Your friends will worry,” he finally settled on.

He could see Jughead's spine stiffen at the mention of his Northside buddies, shoulders tensing momentarily, before he slouched down deeper in his chair.

“You and I both know that they're not my friends,” Jughead mumbled.

It made Sweet Pea frown, everything about this situation setting off warning bells in his head.

“You have until Wednesday,” he said. “After that, I'm dragging your sorry ass back to school.”

~*~

On Monday, Betty Cooper was found crying in the bathroom by Cheryl Blossom, who held her in her arms, tenderly stroked her hair, and promised not to say a word to anyone, and then immediately told Toni, who told Fangs, who told Sweet Pea over lunch, rolling his eyes as he described how Cooper, “was just feeling so confused,” and ”didn't mean to hurt anyone.”

“And get this,” Fangs said, leaning over the table and almost upending Sweet Pea's off-brand energy drink in the process, “apparently she and Andrews already called it quits. He wrote her a song where he rhymed 'Betty' with 'let me,' and she realized they just weren't meant to be.”

“Wow,” Sweet Pea said. What a fucking waste. Anyone with _eyes_ could see that Jones practically worshiped the ground she walked on, and she'd thrown that away, and for what? A couple of over-the-clothes groping sessions with Archie Andrews?

“Kevin is heartbroken,” Fangs said. “He said he'd been planning their wedding since they were eight.”

“Dude,” Sweet Pea said. “Kevin is pretty pathetic.”

Fangs shrugged. “The sex is good though.”

~*~

On Tuesday, Archie Andrews brought his guitar to the quad and serenaded Veronica Lodge with a song about forgiveness.

_Oh, Veronica!_

_You gave your dad another chance,_

_when he tried to kill me._

_Can't you find it in your heart,_

_to give the same to me?_

To Sweet Pea's immense satisfaction, Veronica didn't even spare him a glance. Even more satisfyingly, Betty Cooper's gave him a look of utter betrayal, before walking over to him and dumping the entire contents of her cup of iced chai matcha latte from _Pop's_ over his head.

Blessedly, it even put a stop to Andrews' singing.

~*~

On Wednesday, right before third period, Betty Cooper walked up to him where he was fiddling with the combination for his locker, her head held high and her ponytail tighter than ever, pointedly ignoring the way people were staring at her. She pulled him into an empty classroom, and begged him for news about Jughead.

Sweet Pea wasn't interested in making things easier on her by telling her the truth; that Jughead was hiding in the bunker.

”I'm worried about him,” Cooper confessed to him, her pretty green eyes wide and pleading, and Sweet Pea felt a sick sense of delight in telling her that she should have thought about that before playing tonsil-hockey with Archie Andrews.

It made her expression shutter, hurt and guilt flitting over her features before she steeled herself.

”I guess I deserved that,” she said, with a self-deprecating smile, prim and proper in her pink sweater, back straight and manicured hands clasped in front of her.

Her holier-than-thou attitude had never been harder to take than at that moment.

”Yeah,” he'd simply said. He shouldered his way past her, ignoring the way she was calling out his name.

That night, since _Pop's_ was too risky, and having exhausted Riverdale's other food service option, he picked up some gas-station sushi and made his way to the bunker. He figured if anyone's stomach could survive it, it would be Jughead's.

He found Jughead where he'd left him three days earlier, face glued to the TV monitor. He was pretty sure he was even wearing the same set of clothes as he had then.

Sweet Pea took in the general state of the bunker, with candy wrappers strewn over the floor, empty cans of energy drink teetering precariously on top of stacks of VHS tapes, and a persistent musky smell, that gave him unbidden and unwelcome flashbacks to some of the weekend-long _G &G_ sessions they'd participated in last year.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled.

“Sweet Pea!” Jughead exclaimed, jumping out of his chair, and bouncing on his toes a little. There was a manic glint in his eyes, also reminiscent of their descent into role-playing last year. His lanky, unwashed hair was tucked into his beanie, and he had the beginnings of some truly pathetic peach fuzz on his cheeks.

 _Fuck,_ Sweet Pea thought.


	2. What happens in the bunker...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Pea takes charge.

“I've done some thinking,” Jughead said, looking wide-eyed and earnest, “and maybe Betty ripping my heart out from my chest, throwing it on the ground, stomping on it, and then pouring gasoline over the remains and putting it on fire was a _good_ thing.”

“That's the spirit,” Sweet Pea said, all gentle-like, like he imagined you talked down a spooked horse or some shit like that. He fleetingly considered offering Jughead a reassuring pat on the head and a lump of sugar too, but quickly dismissed that idea – he didn't have any sugar on him anyway, and Jughead's hair looked like a greasy mess he didn't want his hands anywhere near.

“Maybe it'll help me embrace the life I was _meant_ to lead,” Jughead continued, “- as a woman-hating glutton who serves as the apathetic audience to Betty and Veronica's eternal combat over Archie's heart.”

“That's not the spirit,” Sweet Pea said. That sounded like something out of a regressive comic book written for home-schooled Christian teens whose parents thought the _Sonic the Hedgehog_ comics were too suggestive.

“It just feels _right_ , you know? Organic.”

Sweet Pea closed his eyes and counted to ten. He was not going to scream in frustration. He was _not_.

“That's it,” he finally said, when he'd gotten his temper under control. “This ends now, Jones.”

“But I'm so close to cracking this case, I know it!” Jughead said, gesturing at the walls of the bunker, and, oh yeah, look at that. He'd covered them with print-outs and weird graphs, scraps of string connecting them to each other.

“I've connected the dots!”

Sweet Pea looked at the wall, and the mishmash of information – a picture of Cheryl Blossom connected to the a post-it note where Jughead had scribbled “THE EVIL TWIN???”, which in turn was connected to what looked to be a line graph chronicling the rising cost of maple syrup in North Dakota, which was connected to a crude drawing of the Easter bunny with the legend, “FOLLOW THE MONEY” written underneath in block letters.

Sweet Pea rubbed his eyebrow, praying for strength.

“You didn't connect shit,” he finally said.

A terrible suspicion forming at the back of his mind, he asked, “when was the last time you slept?” and, getting another whiff of Eau de G&G Campaign from Jughead, he added, “and the last time you showered, for that matter?”

Jughead's brow furrowed, as if deep in thought. Sweet Pea could almost see the gears slowly starting to move.

  
“Depends,” he said. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.” Sweet Pea could feel his hands tightening into frustrated fists.

“In that case, three and seven,” Jughead said, sounding oddly cheerful about it.

“Three and seven what?” Sweet Pea asked though gritted teeth, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that.

“Three days since I last slept, and seven day since I took a shower,” Jughead explained, sounding almost proud of it, and yep, that seemed about right.

It was at times like this Sweet Pea regretted ever letting himself get tangled up in the lives of Northtsiders.

Sweet Pea wished that Jughead was his normal semi-reasonable self. He could usually be counted on to come up with a plan when the situation called for it; it was usually a _terrible_ plan, but that was more than Sweet Pea usually would contribute - he was more of a punch first, think later kind of guy.

First things first though; as much as he'd love for Jughead to take a shower and get rid of the truly distressing miasma of body odor surrounding him like some sort of malevolent cloud, he was pretty sure the lack of sleep was more important right now. He'd read somewhere that you could go completely crazy from insomnia. He eyed Jughead's wide-eyed state, and had to admit that he appeared to be halfway there already, so sleep it was. He could always burn the bed sheets later.

“Get in bed,” he ordered.

Jughead flinched away from him, a bit reminiscent of a startled rabbit.

“No thank you,” he said, a little nervously. “You're a really attractive guy, but I'm not really interested in rebound sex right now.”

Sweet Pea stared at him in wonder. He wasn't even going to attempt to dissect that statement right now.

“I meant to sleep, idiot.”

"Oh,” Jughead said. He didn't even have the decency to blush.

A beat, and then he shrugged, “okay.”

That was a lot easier than expected, but Sweet Pea would take his victories where he found them.

He watched, arms crossed forbiddingly, as Jughead climbed onto the narrow cot, pulling the threadbare blanket over himself and burrowing down into the lumpy pillow.

Once he was satisfied that Jughead wasn't suddenly going to change his mind and spring up, determined to add more random bullshit to his conspiracy board, he turned around and surveyed the scope of the disaster.

It wasn't that bad, Sweet Pea finally decided. Since Jughead wasn't the type to ever let food go to waste, there were no plates of half-eaten food lying around – just empty wrappers. And, _thank God_ , there were no bottles half-filled with urine, like the ones they'd found in the old Gargoyle gang hang-out when they cleaned it out – Kurtz and his crew had been _nasty_. At least Jughead was a civilized kind of crazy.

He decided to leave the clean-up to Jughead once he'd slept off the worst of his mania, but he was feeling in a generous spirit, so he found a clean towel for him in a drawer and left it out for him.

Sweet Pea knew that the bunker had plumbing in somewhat working order, since the nutjob who'd first built it apparently had been some kind of survivalist doomsday prepper before he killed himself in a ritual to appease the Gargoyle King.

There was a reason the bunker had been voted Riverdale's best teen hook-up spot two years in a row, and it was not because of the sensual ambiance.

Riverdale, man, Sweet Pea thought, shaking his head. Sometimes Sweet Pea had to take a moment and marvel that this was apparently the reality he was living in. At least it meant that Jughead could get himself cleaned up before he rejoined polite society.

It felt wrong leaving Jughead all alone and unprotected in the bunker, what with the weird video stalker still at large and all, so he pulled up a chair and slumped down it it, propping his feet on the edge of the cot.

Jughead had fallen asleep at some point, and he looked oddly young and carefree like that, his brow smoothed out from its customary frown, his mouth slack.

Sweet Pea wondered if he'd ever looked that innocent. Somehow he doubted it. For all his paranoia and intelligence, Jughead had air of of idealism that life had beaten out of Sweet Pea long ago.

Cursing Betty Cooper for being a heartless bitch, and himself for being a soppy idiot, he abruptly stood up. He felt itchy with the need to do something.

He looked at Jughead, who was dead to the world, and probably would be for several hours, and at the bunker, which looked even more depressing than usual.

Accepting his fate, he went to get a broom.

“You so owe me for this,” he mumbled, just to make himself feel better for being such a sucker.


	3. Where everybody knows your name.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the healing begin!

Jughead slept through the night and most of the day, and probably would have slept even longer if Sweet Pea hadn't woken him up. He almost felt bad about it, but, fuck it, he was starving. He was so hungry that even the gas station sushi he'd brought Jughead last night was starting to look good, and that, if anything, was a bad sign.

The downside to Jughead being somewhat well-rested was that he had enough energy to be difficult.

When Sweet Pea suggested he'd take a shower so that they could go out for some burgers, he had predictably refused. By that point, Sweet Pea's patience was hanging on by a thin thread.

“Either you go take a shower, or I'll give you a fucking sponge bath myself, Jones!”

Jughead opened his mouth, as if to argue with him, but then he apparently thought better of it, and bit his lip instead, eyes downcast.

“I don't have any clean clothes,” he finally said, sounding defeated.

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes.

“Of course you don't,” he said. It just figured that Jughead would run away from home with nothing but the clothes on his back.

“I'll go to your house and pick up some clothes for you.”

“Can you get my laptop too?” Jughead asked, hopefully. “In case I want to write something.”

Sweet Pea stared him down, taking in the unwashed and pathetic state of him. Even his hair, which was normally bouncy and energetic, hung limp and lifeless around his face.

He sighed, already knowing he was going to cave.

“Just don't expect me to make a habit of it,” Sweet Pea finally said, making himself sound gruff, but knowing it was a lost cause.

Jughead nodded eagerly, already reaching for the towel.

Sweet Pea watched as he made his way to the minuscule bathroom.

“And shave that sad excuse of a beard off your face!” Sweet Pea yelled after him.

It made Jughead flip him the bird over his shoulder, but he felt reasonably certain that he would change his mind once he caught sight of his reflection.

He left the bunker, closing the hatch behind him so that Jughead wouldn't get any surprise visitors while he was gone, and reached for his phone.

JB answered on the first ring.

“You've found him, haven't you?” she immediately asked. She was perceptive, he'd give her that.

“Yeah,” Sweet Pea said. “And he needs clean clothes. Any way you can let me into his room without Cooper noticing?

“I'm way ahead of you,” JB said. “I've had a bag packed and ready under my bed for days now.”

“Cool,” Sweet Pea said. “Think you can keep Ponytail off my back as well?”

“Don't worry about it,” JB said, snapping her gum obnoxiously. “Give me ten minutes, and I can guarantee she will be distracted.”

Sweet Pea really didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she'd piqued his interest, but, dammit, he _was_ curious.

“How?” He asked.

He could hear the smirk in her voice when she replied, “let's just say that our friendly neighborhood Carrot Top will somehow get the idea into his pretty head that Betty wants to talk with him.”

“That's evil,” he said, not bothering the hide his admiration.

“I know,” she said, sounding smug about it. “See you in ten.” She hung up on him, and Sweet Pea reflected that he really needed to stop letting a pre-teen get the better of him.

He found his bike exactly where he'd left it the night before. He took his time making the drive back into the town, knowing that JB had to put her plan in motion for this to work.

He was trying to be discreet, so he turned off the engine once the Jones-Cooper residence was in his sight, silently rolling into the drive-way.

JB met him at the door, wearing an over-sized flannel that he suspected belonged to Jughead. She'd rolled up the sleeves, but they still hung down over her knuckles.

He didn't even have time to greet her before she impatiently thrust a battered sports bag at him.

“I packed his laptop too,” she said, shrugging her shoulder. “Figured he'd want it once he was done being a drama queen.”

“Thanks,” Sweet Pea said.

“Also,” she said, looking shy all of a sudden. “Can you tell Jug that I miss him?”

“Sure thing,” Sweet Pea said.

JB beamed at him, and she looked so much like her big brother in that moment that it almost freaked him out.

When he left the house, the bag with Jughead's clothes slung over his shoulder, he caught sight of Andrews, standing on the lawn with his arms akimbo, under what presumably was Betty Cooper's window.

Sweet Pea glanced up, and, sure enough, he could see Betty Cooper's frowning face looming in the open window.

“But Kevin said that we were endgame!” Archie shouted to her, a little desperately.

Betty closed her window with a bang, but not before yelling back, “Kevin also thought it was a good idea to join a cult, give his kidney to said cult, and then do tickle porn! Kevin's judgment should not be trusted!”

Northsiders, Sweet Pea thought (and not for the first time), were stupid.

When he came back to the bunker, Jughead was still in the bathroom, so Sweet Pea knocked once, then slammed the door open and thrust the bag at him.

“Jesus Christ,” Jughead grumbled. “Learn to knock, why don't you.”

“Your sister says she misses you,” he said, averting his eyes just in case Jughead was naked or something.

“Oh,” Jughead said. He sounded quietly pleased. “I should probably call her.”

“Yeah,” Sweet Pea agreed.

He slammed the door shut again, getting a fleeting glimpse of Jughead as he did so. He was wearing a towel around his waist. Sweet Pea wasn't sure if he should feel disappointed or relieved.

It didn't take long for Jughead to exit the bathroom, wearing clean clothes, and looking much better for it.

“How do I look?” he asked sarcastically, arms raised.

Sweet Pea gave him a critical once over. The 12 hours of sleep and the shower had honestly done wonders. Not to mention the shave. He never wanted to see Jughead's pathetic depression beard ever again.

“Like a very youthful 27,” he said. “Now get your jacket, “we're going out.”

“No way,” Jughead said. He glared at Sweet Pea from under his bangs. One of these days, Sweet Pea would tell him that the effect wasn't as threatening as he seemed to think. If anything, it was a bit like being glared at by a cartoon bunny.

“We're having a boys' nights out, and that's final.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Jughead said, spindly arms defiantly crossed over his chest, digging his feet in, and getting on Sweet Pea's last nerve, like usual. In a way it was almost reassuring.

“Get over yourself,” Sweet Pea said. “It's not like we're going out for strippers and booze.”

It took some cajoling and a few threats, but he eventually got Jughead to leave the bunker with him.

”We can't go to Pop's,” Jughead said, not bothering to hide his heart-break. “Betty and Archie will definitely find me there.”

“Don't worry,” Sweet Pea said. “We're not going to Pop's. We're going to a place that is 100% guaranteed Andrews- and Cooper- free.”

“The library?” Jughead asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“It's Cooper-free too,” Sweet Pea reminded him.

Jughead hadn't brought his bike when he left his house, so he had to ride behind Sweet Pea, arms wrapped securely around his waist.

“How the fuck did you manage to get to Centerville and back in one day on foot?” Sweet Pea grumbled.

“Riverdale might be a lawless hellhole,” Jughead drawled, “but it's got a state of the art public transportation system.”

There was a definite chill in the air, and it was almost kind of nice having Jones' lanky body draped along his back. He could definitely do without his bony hands digging into his stomach though.

When they got to Pop's, he drove around the building, neatly parking his bike behind the trashcans by the loading dock.

“I thought you said we weren't going to Pop's,” Jughead complained. He had the gall to look betrayed.

“We're not,” Sweet Pea said, rolling his eyes.

He knocked on the back door, and Pop Tate opened it, his lined face brightening when he caught sight of Jughead.

“Jughead!” he said. “It's so nice to see you, son.”

He gave Jughead a pat on the back. “This place just isn't the same without you,” he said.

Sweet Pea watched with amusement as Jughead's face colored with a pleased blush. He smiled bashfully at Pop.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I went a little crazy for a while.”

Pop Tate nodded sagely. “Love makes fools of us all,” he said. “But come in! Your friends are waiting for you downstairs.”

He ushered them inside, and in the direction of the no-so-secret entrance to Veronica's speak-easy.

“I'll have your food sent down in a minute,” he said, and then he was on his way, happily making his way back to the front of the diner.

The speak-easy was almost empty, save for one large table, where Veronica, Toni and Fangs were holding court.

Veronica stood up when she saw them coming.

“Torombolo!” she exclaimed, causing Jughead to roll his eyes good-naturedly and Sweet Pea to frown at her in confusion.

She made her way over to them, and enveloped a very surprised Jughead in a hug.

“Veronica,” he just said, rubbing her back; a little confused by the warm reception, Sweet Pea could tell.

She hugged Sweet Pea too, her small form soft against his. She smelled of some kind of expensive perfume; not overbearing, the way Cheryl's was, but classy. Rich, but not trying to make you feel bad about it.

“I'm glad you're here,” she said. Her dark eyes were looking suspiciously shiny.

“I can tell,” Jughead drawled, but he followed her back to the table without complaint, smiling happily at Toni and Fangs when they greeted him.

They got their food, and it was nice, just hanging out the five of them, getting ribbed by Toni, protecting his food from Jughead, and watching as Fangs and Veronica sipped on brightly colored cocktails.

With Jughead at the table, the food predictably disappeared quickly, but Sweet Pea could tell that he was making an effort to pace himself so that Sweet Pea would have a chance to finish his fries as well. Sweet Pea appreciated the gesture, so in an offer of good will, he nudged Jughead with his elbow and silently offered him his onion rings.

It made Jughead smile at him for real, slightly goofy front teeth showing and everything, so it was worth it. Besides, he could always order more later.

“Can I interest you gentlemen in a cocktail?” Veronica asked them when the last onion ring had disappeared down the black hole that was Jughead's digestive system, and the only food that remained on the table was a large bowl of salted pretzels.

Jughead eyed the contents of her glass a little warily.

“Not to worry, Torombolo,” Veronica said.

She raised a hand to her chest. “These are genuine Veronica Lodge brand mocktails. I refuse to succumb to alcoholism over that ginger Lothario.”

“Translation: I cut her off,” Toni said with a smirk.

“That too,” Veronica readily agreed.

“You know what, fine,” Jughead said, and soon he and Sweet Pea had their own surprisingly delicious mocktails to sip from.

Jughead seemed to be gathering courage for something, and after a while he took a deep breath and looked seriously at his friends.

“I'm sorry for disappearing on you guys,” Jughead said. “I didn't really think anyone would care.”

“Oh, snowflake,” Toni said, putting her dainty hand on his.

“Of course we care, man,” Fangs said.

“I understand why you left,” Veronica said, eyes downcast, “but I'm glad you're back. You're the only one who understands how it feels.”

Jughead looked surprised, like he hadn't even thought to compare his situation to Veronica's before, which was just typical really. For a smart guy, he could be really stupid sometimes.

“I'm sorry, Veronica,” he said. “I know we don't really talk much, but I do consider you a friend.”

“Thank you,” Veronica said. She discreetly wiped at her eyes, and the rest of them did her the courtesy of pretending not to see.

“I know it's not the same thing,” Sweet Pea said, eyes locked on the table, “but I know it hurts like hell when the person you're with don't feel as strongly about you”. He still thought about Josie sometimes, and how he'd been nothing but a booty call to her.

Jughead awkwardly clasped his hand on Sweet Pea's shoulder in a manly show of support.

“I'm sorry,” he said, quietly.

“Not your fault,” Sweet Pea mumbled.

“We all thought you and Cooper were the real deal,” Toni said. “Didn't have a lot of faith in Andrews though, - no offense, princess.”

“None taken, I assure you,” Veronica said, giving her a regal nod.

“Kevin would dump me in a heart-beat if Moose decided to come back,” Fangs offered, out of nowhere. He popped a pretzel in his mouth, not noticing the way the others were staring at him.

“Why are you still with him?” Jughead finally asked. Sweet Pea was wondering the same thing himself.

“The sex is _really_ good,” Fangs said cheerfully. “Plus, I'm making mad bank from the tickle porn. You wouldn't believe how many rich perverts there are out there.”

“Fangs!” Sweet Pea protested, as Jughead and Toni both threw pretzels at him and Veronica laughed, head thrown back in mirth.

It was nice to have friends, Sweet Pea thought. Even if they were a bunch of weirdoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To paraphrase a wise man, "there are red ships and green ships, but no ship like friendship."


End file.
